


All the Ashes in My Wake

by ladyannabethstark



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, shadowhunters au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 22:44:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6303115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyannabethstark/pseuds/ladyannabethstark
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellarke Shadowhunters AU. Doesn't follow the events of the show/books. It's a separate storyline with the characters of The 100.</p><p>When Jake Griffin is falsely accused of treason and murdered, Clarke leaves the Clave and her entire life behind. But four years later, she hears that the Circle still exists and comes back with the sole intention of proving her father's innocence. However, she discovers that her return means picking up the pieces of what broke when she left, starting with Bellamy Blake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All the Ashes in My Wake

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Arsonist's Lullaby by Hozier.

Clarke hesitated on the steps of the cathedral, hating how small it made her feel in that moment. Somehow standing in its shadow made her revert to a teenager, back when she didn’t have doubts, but _faith_ in those who governed her kind. Nothing could bring those feelings back, though she did feel a glimmer of hope when she saw the gold plaque that christened the Institute. Forcing herself forward, she took a deep breath and placed her hand on the door, closing her eyes.

“In the name of Raziel, our creator, I beg for entrance to this sacred place.”

It would either work or it wouldn’t. Clarke wasn’t even sure that she was still welcome there, no matter how many times Wells assured her that there would always be a place for her in their world. Despite her uncertainty, the door slowly creaked open, granting her access. She let out a sigh-- whether of relief or dread, she didn’t know. But Clarke still walked in, head held high and shoulders set straight. She may not have felt like she belonged there but she damn well wasn’t going to let anyone else know that. No matter what, she was a Shadowhunter just like the rest of them.

_Clarke let out a laugh, twirling her stele gracefully between her fingers as she watched Jasper unsuccessfully attempt to draw a rune on his arm._

_“Not so easy when you’re high, is it?” Raven said, grinning as widely as Clarke._

_He held up his hand, looking at them with dilated pupils and a lazy smile._

_“I’ll get it eventually,” Jasper said._

_“Well, I’d like to sit here and watch but_ I _actually want to graduate to official Shadowhunter before my hair turns grey,” Clarke said, sliding off of the table she sat on._

 _“Now, now, we’re_ all _ready to graduate,” Monty said, waving her off with a flick of his hand from where he sat on the floor watching his best friend with grave interest._

_She shook her head, far beyond used to dealing with these two when they managed to find drugs on their rare nights off._

_“We’re only sixteen. We’re not even close to ready,” she said, setting her stele down to pull her hair up into a ponytail._

_“Ahem. Seventeen,” Raven reminded her._

_“Well aren’t you lucky,” Clarke said, shoving at her arm with a smile._

_“Yes I am,” she replied, looking smug as she quickly retraced her endurance rune before jogging over to a treadmill._

_Clarke watched her go with a smile before picking up her own stele to draw a swiftness rune on her forearm in preparation for her sparring session with Sterling._

She was pulled from her thoughts when she heard low murmuring and surprised gasps. Clarke had reached the end of the long corridor, which meant she was finally in plain view of the Shadowhunters that inhabited the Institute. Some of their faces were familiar, reminding her of the time when she lived here quite comfortably, others were strangers. Some folks were confused and some knew exactly who she was. Clarke knew that she was a bit of a legend in the Shadowhunter world and not for any good reasons.

They were either wondering where she’d been all these years or just staring at her unblemished, runeless skin. She’d had them hidden for so long that even she didn’t know if they were still there. Clarke did her best not to meet their gazes, letting her eyes roam over the space rather than the people. Everything looked almost the exact same, other than a few adjustments to technology and weaponry. She saw computer screens lining a wall with maps of Manhattan and the surrounding areas, as well as a list of Shadowhunters living in the city and, more specifically, within the Institute.

“Well there’s a face I wasn’t sure I’d ever see again.”

With a knowing smile, she turned around to see Raven leaning against a table, her arms crossed over her chest. As Clarke walked over, she saw that she was leaning for more than one reason. Wrapped around her left leg was a complicated and sturdy looking brace that went from mid-thigh down over her knee and stopped at mid-calf.

“Raven…” Clarke said, looking from her face to the brace and back.

She shrugged, her smile wavering.

“It sucks but I’m dealing with it,” Raven said, sounding slightly less confident than the girl Clarke used to know. “Mundane weapons are fucked up, you know?”

Clarke swallowed her sympathy and pulled her in for a hug, knowing there was nothing else she could do to make it better. Part of her screamed that she should have been there. The other part of her rationalized that she couldn’t have known. She hadn’t talked to Raven since the day she walked out of the Institute with two packed bags and no intention of ever returning.

“I hoped you would come by,” Raven said as they pulled away.

“You did?” Clarke asked, her face betraying her confusion.

“Your mom told me you were going to be in town.”

She didn’t say anything, only wondered why her mother was so quick to tell Raven when she only knew yesterday herself.

“I’m assuming she didn’t want you to get away with not seeing us,” Raven explained.

“I always planned on coming,” Clarke said defensively.

Raven looked at her doubtfully, with good reason. Clarke hadn’t even made the decision to come until about an hour ago when she figured that it was unavoidable.

“Come on. I’ll show you the new and improved Institute.”

Clarke’s hesitation didn’t make much sense. This was what she’d come here to do. If she was going to re-enter the Clave, she had to start with the Institute.

“Let’s go. We’ll start with the training rooms,” Raven said.

She followed her, ignoring all the stares as she moved further into the building that had served as her home for so many years.

“Wow,” Clarke commented as they arrived at the new sparring mats, dozens of weapons lining the walls.

Shadowhunters were training everywhere, some in hand-to-hand combat and others with blunted weapons-- much safer than the real thing. Clarke remembered what her favorite daggers felt like in her hands and closed her eyes, basking in the sound of the training room for several moments. It felt just like home, which scared the hell out of her.

“Holy shit.”

Her eyes flew open and she saw another familiar face approaching her, followed by several others that she recognized. Clarke was taken by surprise when Octavia gathered her into a hug, squeezing tight for several moments before releasing her. She was in exercise clothing and her hair was falling out of a sloppy bun.

“Hey O,” Clarke said, smiling at her.

Octavia returned the smile, surprising her once more-- especially considering they did not have a friendly farewell the last time they were in the same room.

“Clarke!” two of her other friends exclaimed at once.

She grinned as Jasper and Monty both hugged her, still all gangly limbs and eyes sparkling with some sort of mischief.

“We missed you,” Monty said, pulling away.

“I missed you guys too,” she said, tears pricking at her eyes once more.

They were all four years older but it felt just like they were kids again, all bright eyed and eager to start training and hunting.

“Does Bellamy know you’re here?”

Clarke’s heart jumped to her throat and she looked over at Octavia to see her watching with wide, questioning eyes. Just like that, she came crashing back down to earth and realized she was going to have to deal with every bit of fallout from the day she left the Institute.

“No,” Clarke said, shaking her head. “I haven’t seen him.”

“Well, I can go get him,” Octavia offered.

Clarke shook her head as Octavia went on about Bellamy working with some of the youngest Shadowhunter recruits in the greenhouse.

“It’s okay,” she said, taking a step back. “I can’t stay for long. I can come back later…”

She trailed off as Octavia and Raven exchanged a look.

“I _will_ come back later,” Clarke finished, turning to walk back the way she came.

“You haven’t seen the rest of the Institute,” Raven said, reaching out to grab her arm.

She turned around again, giving her a forced smile.

“I forgot I was meeting my mom for lunch,” she lied.

They all looked less than convinced by her words. Before Clarke could turn to go, Octavia finally said what the rest were thinking. “Why did you come back at all?”

Clarke stopped in place and let out a deep sigh, running her hand through her hair. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” she said, purposefully avoiding the question. “I promise.”

She didn’t let them stop her a second time, marching out of the Institute quickly. When Clarke finally reached the fence that surrounded the building, she took a deep breath and shook her head, cursing her own cowardice. Glancing back, she sent a quick prayer to Raziel that he would give her the strength to return.

* * *

When Clarke walked out of the Council meeting the next day, she had a frown on her face, so it wasn’t a leap for Wells to assume the worst.

“They didn’t let you back into the Clave,” he said, wincing slightly.

“No, they did,” Clarke said, taking her stuff from him. “My mother made a very strong case for me. Grief and all that.”

He looked at her sympathetically.

“Well, at least they didn’t say no,” Wells said, clearly trying to encourage her as they headed for the exit.

Clarke shrugged on her leather jacket before pushing through the doors, guarded by other Shadowhunters who eyed her warily.

“You know, I said once that I didn’t want to become a Shadowhunter just because my parents were on the Council. I still feel that way. So my mom convincing the others to bring me back into the fold leaves a bad taste in my mouth,” she said.

“Well my dad probably would have voted yes anyway,” Wells said.

She gave him a look that told him he wasn’t helping.

“So do you want to head over to the Institute?” he asked, changing the subject. “Raven said that you promised to come back today.”

“Raven said?” Clarke asked, throwing her hands up dramatically as they walked down the sidewalk. “Is everyone talking about me?”

“Well you are headline news right now,” Wells told her. “But Raven and I are… well…”

She looked at him with wide eyes.

“Oh, I had no idea,” Clarke said.

He simply shrugged and she felt terrible. Not only had she disappeared from her friends’ lives, but now she was so out of place that she barely knew them anymore. Five years ago, she never would have put Raven and Wells together. Now that she thought about it, they made perfect sense. Clarke wondered what else she had yet to discover.

“I’ll go,” she sighed.

After all, she had nowhere else to go now.

* * *

Clarke followed Wells into the Institute, her hands shoved in her pockets and her gaze on the floor. He didn’t let her stay that way for long, slowing down enough that they were in step with each other. When Clarke saw Wells visibly tense beside her, she looked up at him only to see him staring down the hallway. When she followed his eye line, she froze, inhaling sharply. Not only was Kane standing there, but his head was close with the one person that she dreaded seeing the most. Bellamy was nodding along with whatever Kane was saying, a serious expression on his face.

“Clarke, come on,” Wells said, trying to urge her forward.

She couldn’t bring herself to budge, her shallow breaths coming quickly as she looked Bellamy up and down. He wore black pants, leather boots, and a form-fitting grey t-shirt that showed off his lean, toned physique. Clarke really shouldn’t have been surprised but four years older Bellamy was as aesthetically pleasing as ever. She swallowed hard and forced herself forward when Wells repeated her name. As they approached, she began preparing herself for every possible reaction he would have.

But nothing could have prepared her for the hurt that sprung up in Bellamy’s eyes when both he and Kane looked over at their approach. Clarke tried to avoid his gaze but it was impossible. Even when Kane acknowledged her, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him. It wasn’t until Wells nudged at her arm that she broke away and looked at the head of the Institute.

“Sir,” she said, reaching out to shake his hand.

“Clarke,” Kane said, giving her a welcoming smile. “You remember Bellamy.”

Clarke slowly turned her eyes back to him, afraid that he would still have that wounded look. What she saw was even worse. His dark eyes were hard and his jaw was set stubbornly.

“Welcome back,” he said in a way that did not make her think she was all that welcome.

Before anyone could stop him, he turned around and walked away, his shoulders stiff and his stride quick. Whatever he could do to get far away from her.

_“You can take a break.”_

_Clarke shook her head, struggling slightly to load the crossbow. It was her weakest weapon, which both frustrated and motivated her._

_“I’m determined to get this right,” she said, finally getting the bolt in place._

_When she lifted it up, Bellamy reached out to steady her arms while sidestepping the crossbow that almost ended up aimed at his heart._

_“Sorry,” she said with a grimace._

_“Deep breath,” he said, stepping behind her, hands ghosting over her back. “It takes patience and concentration to get this right.”_

_Clarke nodded as he fixed her position, widening her stance slightly and straightening her shoulders._

_“It doesn’t feel natural,” she complained._

_“Well you don’t have to use it ever again after you graduate,” Bellamy said, voice ringing with amusement._

_Clarke huffed, focusing on the bullseye that stood fifteen feet away from her. As she lined up the crossbow, she tried to ignore the warmth of Bellamy’s hands that closed around her shoulders to keep her steady. When she pulled the trigger, the bolt flew through the air before hitting just outside the center circle._

_“See?” he said, sounding satisfied._

_“It’s not the center,” Clarke said with a frown._

_He let out a sigh, walking around to stand in front of her again._

_“The Clave will accept you. You know that,” Bellamy said._

_“I don’t want them to let me in because my parents are on the Council. I want to be a Shadowhunter because I earned it,” she said vehemently._

_He smiled softly. “And that’s why you will be one,” Bellamy assured her. “You’re one of the best in this place.”_

_Clarke smiled in return before giving him a strange look._

_“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked, tilting her head to the side._

_He grinned wider, shrugging in response. “I like you sometimes,” Bellamy told her._

_Clarke laughed as he walked around to stand behind her._

_“I like you sometimes too,” she said before lifting the crossbow again._

_Bellamy put his hands on her shoulders and steadied her once more._

“I’m sorry about that,” Kane said, pulling her out of the memory.

Clarke shook her head, waving off his apology.

“I was expecting it,” she said, forcing a smile onto her face.

“I’m sure he’ll come around,” Wells said encouragingly.

Kane nodded at his words. As much as Clarke wanted to let them convince her, she knew that they were wrong. Bellamy wouldn’t do anything until he was ready. And he might never be ready to forgive her for walking out the way that she did.

“We should talk about your role at the Institute,” Kane said, gesturing for them to follow him.

Clarke was grateful for the change of subject but she couldn’t help but glance over at the door that Bellamy walked through, part of her hoping that he might come back through and be willing to talk her. It didn’t happen. She chastised herself for the fanciful thoughts, knowing it would take a lot more than walking through the door to fix what was broken.

* * *

“I’m glad you came back.”

Clarke shrugged as Raven watched her unpack from the bed. Clarke was given her new room mere hours after she had her talk with Kane. The Council assigned her to the Institute to teach and go on missions which meant that she had to live there, no matter how uncomfortable it would be. At least one person was happy that she was moving in.

“I don’t even know if this is where I should be,” Clarke said, zipping up her duffel bag once it was empty.

“Well you should at least try it out,” Raven said, watching as she shoved the bag under her bed. “It’ll be just like old times.”

She meant for it to feel hopeful but it fell flat.

Clarke shot her a look. “You really think that?”

It was Raven’s turn to shrug. “I think anything is possible,” she said.

“Where did this attitude come from?” Clarke asked.

“Monty has a warlock friend that has amazing pain management solutions,” Raven said, patting her left leg. “It works wonders.”

Clarke raised her eyebrows.

“You accept magic solutions from a warlock?” she asked.

“Whatever works,” Raven told her, sliding off of her bed. “You’ll find that the line between Shadowhunters and Downworlders has gotten very blurred in the last few years.”

Clarke knew that she shouldn’t be surprised. In the wake of the supposed takedown of the Circle, it seemed like everyone relaxed a little.

“That’ll take some getting used to,” Clarke admitted.

“You’ll adjust quickly. You always do,” Raven said confidently, walking towards the door. “Don’t mope in here all evening, okay? You can hang out with us in the common area. None of us bite.”

Clarke gave her back a doubtful look before closing the door behind her. Once she was alone, she collapsed onto her bed and stared at the ceiling, wondering why the hell she thought it would be a good idea to come back.

_Clarke sighed as she pulled the dark brown wig off of her head, shaking out her hair._

_“I thought you always said that demons like blonde hair,” she grumbled, tossing it in Bellamy’s direction._

_“Yeah but this time we didn’t want them to notice you,” he replied, catching it with ease._

_She rolled her eyes, setting her daggers next to his bow and arrow on the weapons table to be cleaned._

_“You stand out too much,” Octavia said, nudging her shoulder._

_“And you don’t?” Clarke said with raised eyebrows._

_“Not as much as you,” Bellamy said, tugging on a lock of her hair._

_She shoved him away with a laugh. Missions with the Blake siblings were her favorite kind, especially when Raven bossed them around through their earpieces._

_“Did you get my samples?”_

_Speak of the devil, Raven was there making grabby hands with an eager look on her face._

_“All you could possibly want and more,” Bellamy said, dropping the small bag filled with vials and swabs into her hands._

_“Yes!” She grinned before whirling around to walk away, her ponytail swinging as she went._

_“I’m going to go take several showers. The demons were way too touchy-feely tonight,” Clarke said, grimacing at the smell on her clothes._

_Before she could go, she heard someone call her name. Turning around, she saw the head of the Institute approaching them with a grim expression on his face._

_“Sir?” Clarke said, wary of what he had to say._

_“Clarke,” Kane repeated, rubbing at his brow as he came to a stop a few feet away from them. “Something’s happened.”_

_She looked at Bellamy, wondering if he knew anything about it. He shook his head once, looking just as confused as she felt._

_“What is it?” Clarke asked._

_“It’s your father,” he said, looking at her sadly._

_All at once, her good mood disappeared, blood running cold. And judging by the devastated look in Kane’s eyes, it could only be one thing. Luckily, Bellamy and Octavia were both there to catch her when her knees buckled._

* * *

Clarke could hear arguing from the end of the hall as she walked out of her room. Following the noise, she almost stopped short when she heard her name among the raised voices. As Clarke rounded the corner, she saw Bellamy facing off with Kane, hands curled into fists and an angry look on his face.

“She isn’t ready,” Bellamy insisted.

“I think I can be the judge of that,” Kane replied coolly, unaffected by Bellamy’s furious stance.

“You haven’t even assessed her. She needs to pass the tests again.”

There were several bystanders to the argument, most of them people she knew. When she leaned against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest, almost all of them noticed her except for Kane and Bellamy. When Octavia spotted her, she tried to reach out and alert Bellamy but he shrugged her arm off.

“I’m not going to put my team in danger by taking her out there untrained,” he said.

“You are not in charge here,” Kane reminded him.

“Maybe you should remember that she’s not your favorite student anymore. She’s basically a mundane now,” Bellamy fired back.

Clarke finally pushed herself off the wall, deciding that she’d heard enough of them deciding her fate for her.

“Bellamy’s right.”

They both looked at her with surprise, neither one of them expecting her to be there at all, much less agreeing with Bellamy.

“I don’t want anyone to get hurt because of me. I’ll do whatever training is necessary,” she told them.

Bellamy had a blank look on his face and he was staring at the ground but Kane was glancing between them with a thoughtful look.

“Fine,” he decided, nodding his head. “But Bellamy will train you.”

“Sir,” they both protested at once.

He held his hand up, indicating that he’d had enough.

“You trained her the first time. I’m sure you can do it again,” Kane said.

He left them both staring after him, wondering exactly how that happened. It was only Octavia’s laughter that pulled them out of their shocked trances.

“Good luck,” she said, patting them both on the shoulder before walking out of the room as well.

Clarke watched everyone go before turning her attention back to Bellamy, who was standing frozen in the same spot. Eventually he glanced back at her, looking as uncertain as she felt. Clarke searched her mind for something to say next, biting down on her lower lip as she wrapped her arms around her middle.

“We might as well start now,” Bellamy finally said.

Instead of turning away as she expected, he stayed in place and waited for her reply.

“I can talk him out of it,” Clarke offered.

Bellamy shook his head, rubbing at his jaw.

“No, he’s right. It should be me.”

Clarke tried not to let him see how surprised she was at his words.

“I’ll go change,” she said, turning on her heels towards her quarters.

By the time she made it back to the training rooms, Bellamy was pulling two metal staffs from the wall. Clarke knew that it was natural to start with the basics but she didn’t like the idea of being treated like a rookie. Instead of protesting, she dropped down to the mat to stretch out. She’d kept up certain exercises in her time away out of habit but she had no idea how her body would react to what she was about to put it through. As soon as she stood, Bellamy tossed a staff her way. She barely caught it before it hit the floor, shooting him an annoyed look. When he shrugged, Clarke wondered just how much he was going to punish her in the next few hours.

“Try to keep up,” he said smugly.

That was her only warning before he went on the attack. It took mere moments for her to fall back on muscle memory, matching his blows with blocking moves. Yet Clarke couldn’t seem to get the upper hand, frustration filling her as he forced her to stay on defense. When he knocked her to the ground, she huffed and pushed herself up.

“You could take it easy on me,” she muttered.

Bellamy snorted, twirling the staff around effortlessly.

“The demons won't let you rest,” he reminded her.

Clarke glowered at him.

“I know that,” she snapped back.

“Then let’s go.”

This time she was prepared, ducking his thrust and coming back with a few offensive moves of her own. She smiled slightly as he backed up a few steps to make up for her oncoming attack. Then Bellamy hooked his weapon underneath hers, sending it flying across the room where it hit the wall with a clatter.

“Kicking my ass won’t help me get better,” Clarke said angrily.

“I beg to differ,” Bellamy said, putting one end of his staff on the ground as he leaned on it.

She couldn’t resist kicking out as she passed, knocking it away from his hands so that he had to keep himself from falling to the ground.

“Seriously?”

Clarke shrugged carelessly, picking up her own staff.

“Just giving it right back,” she said, sinking into a crouch.

Bellamy eyed her as he approached and they circled each other for several moments before meeting in the middle at once. They were almost evenly matched this time, using every bit of the space they had to spar with one another. Clarke grunted with frustration when she started to grow tired, knowing that he had far more endurance than she did. It helped that he had the runes to spur him on. The thought caused her eyes to flicker to one on his neck and the brief distraction was all that he needed to get the upper hand. Next thing Clarke knew, she was flat on her back and he was crouching over her, his staff pressed lightly to her throat.

“Get off me,” Clarke said.

“Where are your runes?” he replied, his eyes flickering over her bare arms almost in disdain.

She scowled, remembering that Bellamy called her a mundane earlier.

“I don’t have a stele anymore,” Clarke reminded him, shoving him off of her with all the strength she could muster.

To her satisfaction, he hit the ground with a grunt and she stood up, shoving a few loose curls out of her face. As she walked to get a drink of water, she couldn’t help but remember the last time she saw her stele.

_Clarke hadn’t even changed out of her white funeral clothing before she began emptying her room of all of her belongings._

_“What are you doing?” Wells asked._

_She ignored her friends at the door, blindly shoving things into a suitcase with tear-blurred eyes._

_“Clarke,” Raven sighed, making her way into the room._

_“Don’t,” she said, throwing her hand off when it touched her shoulder. “I have to get’m getting out of here.”_

_“You’re going to stay with your mom?” Wells asked._

_She shook her head, yanking clothes out of her closet._

_“I’m getting out of_ New York _,” Clarke said, pushing as many of her clothes into the suitcase as she could before dragging a duffel bag out from beneath her bed._

_“You can’t just leave,” Octavia said, pushing through._

_“Watch me,” Clarke said, zipping her bag up and hoisting it onto her shoulder._

_She shoved past her friends, ignoring the voice in the back of her head that told her she wasn’t treating them fairly. None of this was their fault._

_“Clarke!” they all called after her._

_The commotion drew attention as she determinedly made her way towards the exit._

_“She’s leaving,” Clarke heard Octavia said._

_“Wait, Clarke!”_

_Bellamy’s hand closed around her arm and he turned her around._

_“Let me go, Bellamy!” she said, pushing him away from her._

_Her duffel dropped to the ground with a soft thump as he raised his hands in surrender._

_“Don’t go, Clarke,” he said, his eyes pleading with her._

_She looked away from him as tears slipped down her cheeks._

_“I don’t belong here anymore,” Clarke said, sounding as broken as she felt._

_“Yes, you do. We can get through this, together,” Bellamy said, reaching out for her hand._

_She jerked away from him, shaking her head._

_“They killed my father!”_

_Her voice echoed through the Institute and she saw dozens of Shadowhunters watching the confrontation. Kane was nowhere to be seen but he would no doubt come along soon enough. Clarke had every intention of being gone by then._

_“I know,” Bellamy said softly, stepping closer to her. “We’ll find out who did it. You just have to stay. Please.”_

_Clarke still avoided his gaze, staring at the stone floor._

_“I can’t trust them anymore,” she said hoarsely._

_“Who?” Bellamy asked._

_“The Council… the Clave… Shadowhunters,” she said, finally looking up at him. “My father wasn’t a Circle member. No matter what they say, he just wasn’t. I know it.”_

_“I know,” he said, reaching up to cup her cheek. “But you can trust me, right?”_

_Clarke closed her eyes, leaning her head into his hand for just a few moments._

_“I’m sorry,” she whispered, pulling away from him. “I can’t.”_

_As she turned away to pick up her bags again, she tried not to look at him again._

_“You’re one of us, Clarke,” Raven pushed, still trying to change her mind._

_She hesitated, pulling her stele out of her jacket pocket. Looking down at it, she took a deep breath before letting it clatter to the floor._

_“Not anymore.”_

_Those were the last words she spoke before walking out of the Institute, leaving her broken heart behind._

“Come with me.”

Clarke turned around as the memory faded away. Bellamy was already heading off towards the rooms and no matter how much she wanted to say no, she couldn’t resist following. When they ended up at his room, she stopped at the door, looking around warily. It all looked pretty much the same. He was a neat person. Everything had its place. Clarke knew that it was a byproduct of how he grew up. When Bellamy bent over to dig in his desk, she stepped further into the room and let her fingers drift over the threadbare blanket on his bed. He got hot when he slept, that much she remembered. He didn’t sleep with many covers at all.

“Here,” Bellamy said.

She turned around only to see him holding out a familiar stele. Clarke’s eyes widened and her lips parted slightly as she reached out to take it from him.

“You kept it?” she breathed.

It felt natural in her hand, like the instrument was just as relieved to be back in her care.

“I always hoped you’d come back to get it,” Bellamy said honestly.

Clarke looked up at him, ashamed of the tears gathering in her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “What I said that day…”

“It’s in the past,” Bellamy interrupted her.

“No it’s not,” she said, shaking her head as she stepped closer to him.

He clenched his jaw and looked away, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I do trust you, Bellamy. I always did,” Clarke said, gripping her stele tightly in one hand to keep from reaching out to touch him. “I need you.”

Bellamy looked at her, disbelief and anger mingling in his eyes.

“You need me?” he said, almost scoffing. “You left me.”

Clarke swallowed hard and nodded.

“I regret it every day,” she admitted.

“I waited every day. I thought you were dead, Clarke. Everyone did,” Bellamy said, turning away from her. “You were mourning. We knew you needed space. But you didn’t have to drop off the face of the damn earth.”

She stood still, watching as he paced his room.

“I was scared to come back,” Clarke said.

“So why’d you come back now?” Bellamy demanded, looking up at her.

Clarke took a deep breath before answering.

“I heard that some Circle members were resurfacing and I wanted to help capture them. I want to prove my father’s innocence,” she told him.

He stared at her with a cold, blank look. It was worse than any anger he could direct at her.

“That’s it?” Bellamy asked.

Clarke knew what he wanted to hear. And she wanted to say it so badly. But she couldn’t give him hope. She couldn’t tell him that she came back for him and the others when she wasn’t even sure that she was staying once she cleared her father’s name.

“That’s it,” she confirmed.

That same wounded look came over his face and she wanted desperately to call the words back, to tell him how much she’d missed him. But then he was turning away.

“This was a bad idea,” Bellamy said in a low voice.

“Bell...” Clarke said, stepping towards him.

Before she could say another word, he walked out of the room, leaving her alone. Clarke knew exactly where he was going and could have easily followed him. He always sought out the greenhouse when he was upset, but she stayed in place, watching him go helplessly. Minutes passed and she was still alone, standing in the middle of his room with her stele in hand. Looking down at it, she wiped her tears away and took a deep breath, preparing to use it for the first time in years. But before she could, something on his desk caught her eye. The parchment was curling up at the corners and it looked slightly faded but it was familiar all the same. She smoothed it out with wide eyes and a trembling lower lip, remembering the exact day she drew it.

_“Aren’t there better things that you can be doing?” Bellamy complained as he glowered at her over the top of the book he was reading._

_“Nope,” Clarke said, shooting him a grin._

_He sighed dramatically, pushing his glasses further up his nose before returning his attention to The Iliad. Clarke continued drawing, her eyes flickering from him to the paper on her lap and back. She was curled in an armchair that sat in the corner of his room, her hair braided out of her face and her hands stained with charcoal. It was a rare moment of peace that they were both determined to enjoy._

_“What are you even drawing?” Bellamy huffed after a long stretch of silence._

_“You’ll see,” Clarke told him without lifting her eyes from the paper._

_When he sat up, she gave him a warning look._

_“Don’t,” she warned, holding her hand up._

_Bellamy grinned, taking off his glasses and setting them aside._

_“Bellamy…”_

_When he launched at her, Clarke shot off of the chair and held them drawing behind her back protectively._

_“I’m not done,” she whined, holding her free hand out as he advanced on her._

_“Let me see it,” Bellamy said, his eyes alight with mischief._

_“No,” she said, shaking her head._

_When his arms wrapped around her, Clarke shrieked and yelled at him not to tear it, struggling in his embrace._

_“Let me have it and I won’t,” he said, laughing at her._

_Clarke tried to tickle him across his ribs, something that he caught onto quickly._

_“No you don’t.”_

_She couldn’t help but laugh as they staggered towards the bed. When they began to teeter dangerously, she held the drawing above her head to keep it from being damaged, enabling him to snatch it away just as they fell onto the mattress._

_“Bellamy!” Clarke yelled, grabbing at his arms as he scrambled to sit up._

_He shot her a triumphant grin before looking at what she’d sketched. His look faded away as he looked over the half-done drawing of him, glasses slipping down his nose and happiness shining in his eyes as he read._

_“It’ll look better when I finish it,” Clarke said in defense of her drawing._

_Bellamy looked up at her with wide eyes._

_“It’s amazing Clarke,” he said._

_She smiled and flushed, taking it back from him._

_“Keep reading,” Clarke said, shoving him playfully back to his spot._

_As she moved to climb off of the bed, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. By the time she was settled back in the chair with her charcoal, he was picking up his book with a dazed smile. Clarke was pretty sure he didn’t get any more reading done as she drew. His eyes consistently peered up at her and she saw something different in them. Clarke wasn’t sure what it was but she knew that she liked it._

Clarke pressed her lips together as her fingers drifted over the finished drawing. It felt as though it was from a different lifetime. She wanted to go back, to save her father and her relationship with Bellamy. But all she could do was move forward and maybe try to heal what she couldn’t seem to stop breaking.

* * *

“He missed you.”

Clarke didn’t reply, pushing herself harder as she sparred with Lincoln, Monroe, and Harper all at once. They had different fighting styles, pushing her to the limit as she darted around and defended herself with two blunted seraph blades. When Bellamy refused to return to training her, Lincoln took over and made sure she was prepared in every way for what she might face when she returned to the mission field.

“You have to talk about this,” Lincoln pushed.

“No I don’t,” she said through gritted teeth.

When he nodded at Monroe and Harper, they immediately backed off, leaving her with him. Clarke huffed and stepped away from him, wiping the sweat from her forehead.

“You can’t go on missions together with this hanging over your head.”

“We won’t be assigned together,” Clarke said confidently, twirling the daggers in her hands effortlessly.

He gave her a doubtful look.

“You have to clear this up, Clarke. You know that,” Lincoln said.

She shook her head.

“All I know is that it’s been weeks and he has no desire to talk to me. So I’m not going to force it. I’m going to concentrate on training.”

“You’re done training,” he sighed.

She looked at him with surprise, dropping the blade on a nearby table.

“When were you going to tell me?” Clarke asked.

“Today. Kane signed off.”

Clarke nodded, tugging up the sleeves of her workout shirt. She knew that she’d improved leaps and bounds, especially after she began using runes again. It was only a matter of time and she felt relieved that she was finally cleared to go on missions. But there was one thing about the look on Lincoln’s face that gave her pause.

“He already assigned me, didn’t he?” she said warily.

“You work best with those you are familiar with. It makes sense,” Lincoln replied.

Clarke closed her eyes, taking several deep breaths.

“Fine,” she said, nodding after several moments.

When she looked at Lincoln again, he was eyeing her carefully.

“I’m going after the Circle,” Clarke warned him.

“We all are.”

She nodded again, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You’re just glad I won’t be kicking your ass anymore,” she said with a slight smile.

Lincoln let out a laugh, reaching out to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he said, kissing the top of her head as they walked out together.

* * *

Though she refused to admit it out loud, Clarke felt a certain amount of satisfaction as she walked through the streets of New York with Lincoln, Bellamy, and Octavia. Raven was on the other end of their earpieces, ready to help them out when they would undoubtedly need her.

“Miller is our contact among the warlocks,” Octavia explained as they crossed a street. “He says there is demon activity at a club in Queens.”

“Miller is the one that Monty likes?” Clarke asked.

“Yeah,” Octavia said with a smile. “He’s Bellamy’s friend too. He’s the one who brought Miller to us.”

Bellamy didn’t say a word, his face stoic and his eyes focused forward. Clarke looked away, refusing to react as she glanced around at the city she missed. When they arrived at the club in question, she could practically smell a fight brewing. Drawing her daggers out, she slipped through the entrance with the others unbeknownst to the mundane bouncer who was checking IDs.

“We’ll take the upper level,” Octavia said before Bellamy could say a word.

Lincoln glanced between Clarke and Bellamy before following his fiance up the steps. When Clarke looked at Bellamy, she saw that he was glancing around the room.

“I’ll take the left,” she said, turning away.

Before she could walk off, Bellamy caught her arm to keep her from going.

“I need to say something,” he told her loudly.

Clarke raised her eyebrows.

“Are we really doing this now?” she asked.

For someone who was generally the model of professionalism on missions, the fact that he wanted to start this in the middle of one shocked her. When she pulled her arm away from his, he just let it happen.

“Later,” Clarke said.

As much relief as she felt that he wanted to talk to her, there was a time and a place and this wasn’t it. Turning around, she began making her way through the crowd with sharp eyes and adrenaline pumping through her veins. It was easy to forget how much of a high the hunt was while she was away, but it was also easy to remember it again. Clarke couldn’t help but smile as she pushed her issues with Bellamy away as well as all of the baggage that came with her return to the Clave. _This_ is what she was meant to be doing.

Once she weaved through the entire left side of the club, even checking it twice, she ended up by the DJ booth where Bellamy was standing on the platform with a deep frown on his face. He was thinking the same thing as her. They hadn’t seen any signs of demons. Then panic flickered over his face as she felt like the breath had been taken out of her lungs all at once. Bellamy jumped down beside her but she was already pushing her way forward.

“O and Lincoln,” Clarke said, her heart suddenly pounding.

“I feel it too,” Bellamy confirmed.

They were darting through the crowd at once, Clarke surging ahead once they reached the stairs.

“The private rooms,” she called over her shoulder, avoiding the crowds of people as she rushed towards the hallway.

When they staggered through the one open door, they saw Octavia being pinned against the wall by one demon and Lincoln trying to fight off three others at once.

“Help Lincoln!” Clarke said.

She didn’t wait to hear Bellamy’s response, throwing herself at the demon holding Octavia. It wasn’t exactly graceful but it did the job, allowing Octavia to breathe again as she slid down the wall. However, Clarke ended up pinned beneath the demon in their struggle and her daggers slid off to Raziel knows where so she was stuck without a weapon.

Reaching up, she dug her thumbs into its eyes before it could do anything, flipping them over and slamming the demon’s head on the floor several times before sliding a silver bracelet off of her wrist. The metal pulled apart, revealing a silver garotte that she quickly wrapped around the demon’s neck, pulling as tight as she could, Clarke watched as it slowly burned away as she cut through its throat. When it was gone, she slid the bracelet back onto her wrist and stood up to retrieve her daggers. Unfortunately by the time she straightened up, two more demons had come in the room and were bearing down on them.

“Just like old times,” Octavia said, flashing her a grin before whirling around to engage the demon.

Clarke couldn’t help but smile as well, twirling her daggers around as she advanced on the demon as well. It looked slightly thrown off by that but recovered quickly as she began fighting. It gave as good as it got for a while, but in the end, Clarke’s training won out and she landed it flat on its back, her knee on its throat as she drove both daggers into its chest. Octavia was helping Lincoln fight off his demon by the time she stood up so neither of them could see the other one that had Bellamy pinned on the ground, slowly pushing one of his arrows towards his throat. She did not hesitate, hurtling forward to stop it from happening.

Bellamy could take care of himself, she knew that. He always had a plan to get himself out of the situations but she wasn’t about to sit back and let it unfold without doing anything. So when he shoved the demon off with his feet planted on its abdomen, she simultaneously buried her daggers in its back and hauled it backwards. That was how she ended up staggering to a wall with the thing pinning her and howling, trying to get away from the seraph blades buried between its shoulder blades. Clarke couldn’t move, only grit her teeth and watch as Bellamy quickly got to his feet and pulled a blade from his boot, stabbing the thing straight in the neck. Clarke sighed with relief as it burned away, leaning her head back against the wall.

“What the hell was that?”

Her eyes sprung open and she looked at Bellamy’s furious face with surprise.

“I helped you?” Clarke said.

“I had it under control!” he scolded her.

Octavia and Lincoln watched from the other side of the room, unwilling to interfere as Bellamy advanced on Clarke.

“Yeah, I saw that,” Clarke said sarcastically, pushing off of the wall. “I guess your plan involved letting the demon put an arrow through your throat?”

“I didn’t need your help.”

“Are you kidding? You’re pissed at me for trying to help you?”

“I’m pissed at you for a lot more than that.”

“Well maybe if you actually talked to me, you could get some of that off your chest.”

“I tried.”

“Yeah three weeks later and in the middle of a nightclub.”

“What the hell do you want from me, Clarke?”

“Should we go to the bar or…?” Octavia interrupted her

Clarke and Bellamy looked over at her, ceasing their back and forth.

“We’re leaving,” Octavia said, gesturing between herself and Lincoln. “You two can stay here and argue until you run out of things to say, if you want.”

Lincoln looked amused as she walked out, shrugging at them before following her. Both Clarke and Bellamy avoided looking at each other for several moments.

“We should get back too,” Bellamy finally said.

Clarke didn’t move, her eyes tracking him across the room.

“I hate this,” she said, stopping him in place.

Bellamy’s shoulders slumped as he turned around, meeting her eyes.

“I don’t want to do this anymore, Bellamy. We hardly talk and when we do, we’re fighting. It’s miserable. _I’m_ miserable,” she said, stepping closer to him. “Tell me I’m not the only one.”

“You’re not,” he said after a moment.

Clarke almost cried out of relief. At least it was a start, that was all she needed.

“Truce?” she said.

When the corner of his mouth lifted slightly, she pressed her lips together to keep from smiling as well.

“Truce,” Bellamy nodded. “Let’s go home.”

She followed him out, feeling a weight slowly lift off her shoulders.

* * *

Clarke heard the footsteps before she saw who they belonged to. She knew that she should have expected it to be Bellamy, considering that he loved the greenhouse more than anyone.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she said.

“I saw you walking up,” Bellamy said, sitting on the white marble bench next to her.

He handed her one of the two cups in his hand and when she sniffed the liquid inside, her suspicions were confirmed.

“Monty’s moonshine,” Clarke said with a laugh.

“What else?” Bellamy said, taking a drink from his own cup.

She sipped at it, knowing better than to drink it too quickly. Four years ago she might have been able to drink three cups without so much as slurring her words but now she had no tolerance for it. They both drank in silence for a while, testing their truce warily.

“I remember the last time we sat here drinking moonshine,” Bellamy said after a while.

Clarke looked over at him, the words sparking up the same memory for her.

_“I can be fun,” Clarke had declared hours before, ignoring Murphy’s snort as she grabbed a full bottle of Monty’s moonshine._

_Somehow that led to her matching Raven shot for shot and serenading them horribly with whatever songs happened to pop in her head. Eventually she ended up in the gardens, wandering among the flowers, herbs, and other plants as she hummed to herself. When she ended up in the rose garden area, she stopped short when she saw Bellamy sitting amongst the beautiful flowers._

_“You missed quite the party,” she told him._

_“So I heard,” he said, watching her approach with amusement in his eyes._

_Clarke plopped down next to him, swinging her legs back and forth._

_“Why are you always up here alone?” she asked._

_“I like the quiet,” Bellamy told her._

_She looked over at him with wide eyes, pushing her lower lip out slightly. “Should I leave?”_

_He shook his head quickly. “You can stay,” Bellamy assured her._

_She smiled, leaning in to bump her shoulder against his._

_“My mom always said she wanted a big garden with lots of roses. This place reminds me of her,” he explained further._

_“So she would love this place,” Clarke said, looking around._

_“Yeah, she would have,” Bellamy agreed._

_She reached down, putting her hand over his._

_“She’d be proud of you,” Clarke said confidently._

_“You didn’t even know her,” he reminded her._

_She shrugged carelessly. “You’ve done so well for yourself and Octavia. It’s because of you that either of you is in the Institution. She’d be proud,” Clarke reaffirmed._

_Bellamy couldn’t help but smile at that, reaching up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear._

_“You are the most honest person I know, Clarke,” he said, almost sounding awed._

_“I don’t see the point in lying,” she replied._

_“I know. I like that.”_

_She hummed happily, leaning her head against his shoulder._

_“My mom offered to let me shadow her while she’s in council meetings, like Wells does with his father. She wants me to follow in her footsteps,” Clarke said._

_“What did you tell her?” Bellamy asked._

_“That I want to be a Shadowhunter, not a politician,” she told him._

_He didn’t say anything for a long stretch of time so she lifted her head to see if he was all right. When Bellamy turn to meet her gaze, she saw a mixture of emotions in his eyes._

_“I don’t want you to leave,” he said honestly._

_She smiled, reaching up to brush her thumb over his cheek. Leaning in, Clarke pressed a soft kiss to his lips._

_“I have every reason to stay,” she whispered as she pulled away._

_When she met his shocked gaze, she grinned at him and nodded, standing up._

_“You’re not going to remember this,” Bellamy said, watching as she walked away._

_Turning around, Clarke thought about it for a moment before shaking her head._

_“I’ll remember every second,” she disagreed._

_With a final smile, she waved goodbye to him and felt his eyes on her as she walked away._

“That was a week before my father died,” Clarke said, turning to look away from him. “I wonder what would have happened if he hadn’t been framed and killed.”

“I wonder the same thing, every single day,” Bellamy said.

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she took a long sip. Sobriety be damned, she needed the liquid courage.

“I lied to you, Bellamy,” Clarke finally told him.

She felt his eyes on her as soon as she said the words.

“When?” he asked.

“When I told you I came back because of my father. That wasn’t the only reason.”

She turned to look at him, staring him straight in the eye.

“I came back because of this place,” she said, gesturing around at the Institute in general. “Because of everyone in it. Because of _you_.”

Bellamy stared back at her, looking uncertain of what to say. When he finally opened his mouth to speak, she prepared herself for whatever would come out.

“I missed you every damned day, Clarke,” Bellamy said.

She took a deep breath, looking down at her cup of moonshine to see that it was already half empty.

“I missed you too,” Clarke said, setting the cup down on the ground. “So much.”

Before he could say another word, she reached down and took his hand, simultaneously leaning her head on his shoulder like she did in this exact spot all those years ago. Bellamy didn’t pull away, entwining his fingers through hers. Clarke thought she might have even felt his lips touch the top of her head. They stayed like that for a long time, neither speaking or moving an inch. Clarke couldn’t help but think that it felt like a fresh start.

**Author's Note:**

> I would love to hear what you think!


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